Timeless
by SingsforPhantom
Summary: What would happen if a fan managed to go back in time and find her beloved Phantom.  Would he accept her?  Could she win his heart.  Find out in this Somewhere in Timeesque story of a girl named Kitty who attempt such a feat.


Timeless

Timeless

"_Oh what am I doing here, I belong in an institution._" Kitty Porter sat, a trespasser in the famous Garnier Opera House cellar, waiting for ghosts to appear. A fan of the famous Leroux novel she had scrounged and saved for years to try and visit the crucial monument in the classic.

When she arrived in Paris she felt reminded of the first time she read the novel and how that had begun her journey. In high school they had been required to read the novel and for the first time she felt moved by a book assigned for school. She devoured it. The characters jumped from the page onto her soul and moved her. Enthralled with the main character of the Phantom of the Opera, she fell in love with a fictional character for the first time in her life.

Her friends all made fun of her obsession and soon after awhile, she kept stopped talking about it and locked her love in her heart. They could coo over hunky movie stars and scruffy band guys, she had a different idea. Unfortunately it had tainted her romantic life negatively. No man could measure up to her ideal.

Her mother often worried about her since she was now twenty years old and had not been in a serious relationship. Kitty worried herself that she could not fall in love with any man but the one in her dreams but could not get him out of her mind. She had seen the musical theater version of the novel 2 years ago and now heard the voice of the man in her mind. Sometimes she wondered if she was crazy; surely it could not be healthy to dwell on a dream.

The search had led her here, to the shrine of her passions, the opera house. When she first got to Paris she quickly dropped her luggage off at the hotel set off for the Opera House. Not many operas were performed here anymore to her chagrin but she used her imagination as she stared in the auditorium. Looking up at the chandelier that hung comfortably above the rows of plush red seats she felt a tingle in her spine and envisioned the chandelier being cut by a sensuously gloved hand connected to the masked man.

Going on the tour had been fun but lacking in education. It seemed no one in this building acknowledged the story linked to the great monument but rather delighted in discussing the history and building of the opera. Kitty did not even bother asking, however, in the gift shop there were several hints of the Phantom of the Opera lurking around but nothing she truly desired.

The tour, however, did not include the depths or the famous roof. Therefore after the tour, she risked being escorted out of the building and stepped over the velvet ropes which blocked the stair which continued to wind down, down, down, to the depths. She made sure to quiet her movements as she approached the darkness. 

Her mind had raced and she felt her muscles tense in the anticipation of getting caught. Kitty wondered if she would be apprehended before she reached her goal. It seemed like forever, and in truth, she had no idea where she was going. She noticed the stairs end, and then she felt herself pulled down a pathway and as she meandered through the corridors, she saw a blue light which indicated water.

Another signed loomed ahead warning her to stay away but she could not bring herself to turn back now. The watery depths beckoned and she felt herself lured by their dancing shadows. At last a clearing approached and Kitty sat down by the water's edge. The air smelled rank and stale with the smell of moist silt. 

Now she sat here, and she had for an hour or so, thinking of the impossible and feeling lost. How could her life have meaning if the one person who gave it meaning never really existed? Rather, if he did exist, he was long dead and buried and could never know about her. Her heart ached to love him, to give his life meaning as well as her own life. Closing her eyes she listened for the music she had longed to hear but she heard nothing.

Her fingernails blushed blue in the cold damp air of the depths of the Paris Opera House. In mind, she knew that nothing miraculous could come of freezing to death in this dank place but her heart would not allow her to budge. She had seen a movie where lovers met in a time of tranquility and only one of these belonged to such a time. Prayer solidified her hope that she could be as successful in traveling back in time as the character in the movie.

In order to do so, mastery of hypnosis and relaxation guaranteed success. Kitty took no chances. She was prepared to fully acclimate herself to the late 1800's. The precise date remained a mystery but she hoped time would unravel accordingly to her plan.

From her backpack she drew out a beautiful dress she had made. The dress resembled a Christine Daae mock-up but imitated more the general style of the era and was less theatrical. The proper undergarments, which she had bought from an antique costume store, dated back to the era, however, appeared most constricting in nature. Glancing around, although she knew she was alone, Kitty quickly stripped off the 21st century and donned more Edwardian attire.

She laughed as she twirled and then regretted the action as the corset she now wore dug into her ribcage making it difficult to breathe. Swallowing, she took a deep breath and reconciled that this was a worthy sacrifice for a more than worthy reward. The undergarments were a plain, worth off-white, but the dress itself was a deep green and flowed like a waterfall of pine trees.

Her shoes had been replaced with delicate beaded slippers which offered no warmth but delighted her feet in their femininity. She felt like Cinderella—a freezing cold Cinderella but non-the-less more than her ordinary self. Her only concern was her hair. Kitty had spent a year and several months growing out her thick copper colored hair to the appropriate length. It now cascaded down her back, untamed and free.

Clumsily she practiced a proper up-do for the time period, but her hands could not twist the hair enough. Holding up a compact mirror she giggled, her hair looked proper, be it unkempt. She wore no makeup and no perfumes that might draw suspicion. She felt like a doll that could barely move but she found the more she walked the more she got used to the weight of her clothing.

Tucking every futuristic item in her backpack, she zipped the bag and hid it behind a rock, out of sight. If all went accordingly she would not need it any longer. Carefully grooming her clothing and look, she sighed and closed her eyes. This was it; this was the moment of truth. So much time and energy and been spent preparing for this chance. Kitty was about to find out if her fantasies could be made true by rewriting the laws of physics.

As she had practiced, Kitty sat down on the cool, hard ground and closing her eyes, repeated one phrase over and over,

"You are Katherine Webber. You are a young lady living in the year 1880. You are a young lady, living in France, in the depths of the Paris Opera, living in 1880."

Her mind meditated and cleared all thoughts except this one. Over and over she fed her conscious this truth, believing this truth would be the only way she could succeed. After an hour she opened her eyes and wiped beads of sweat delicately off her forehead. Clearly this would be more work than she had anticipated.

Again she repeated the phrase this time replaced her name "Katherine" with Kitty. Only her mother called her Katherine, and only when she had done something wrong. She became Kitty from her father, when he called her that name years ago and it stuck.

Now this identity stuck and it would help her to achieve her ultimate goal. Her mind floated out of the present year and traveled to where her heart lay. She felt cold and the warm and her insides felt pulled by some unseen force as if swinging on a swing. She concentrated harder and suddenly she heard a loud clicking noise and then felt a rush of air. Then, darkness surrounded her senses and she passed out.

She awoke and the first sense that rushed to her mind was how dank and cold it had become. Sleepily lifting her head, Kitty wondered how long she had been out cold. In her heart, she prayed that she had succeeded. There would be no way to tell for sure down here.

Awkwardly she stood her toes numb in their delicate slippers. Her arms budded with goose bumps and she attempted to rid herself of them rubbing her hands on her blue arms. Her dress, which had cost her a great deal of money, bore the stains of old sewer water and lost its brightness.

Uncaring, she walked in her discomfort to discover the result of her meditation which had rendered her unconscious. The halls glowed the same blue in the dim light but her heart leapt in her bodice as she saw a faint orange light in her midst. Someone else was here! Now she was out of her depth; if it was him, if this was not some cruel hallucination… what could she say that would not send her straight to a nuthouse?

Oh God, she thought bitterly, what if he does not understand and thinks me a mere trespasser? What if he threatens me if I do not leave… then it will all have been for nothing… Her mind could not see the solution. Still she supposed she might fain an injury or naivety of a lost chorus girl or maid. The scenarios seemed endless and yet somehow out of a piece of poorly written romantic fan fiction. This was real and now.

The orange light drew near and still her plan remained unimagined. Still something must conspire. As the light engulfed the tunnel even more, she glanced around seeking some sign of him. Him, the thought made her warm in her cold state. Still she felt crazily compelled by some other force other than her own will. Did she really think she could waltz into Erik's lair, a stupid romantic fool, and he would realize how empty and meaningless his life was without her? The idea now seemed absurd.

Feeling very small, Kitty maintained her goal now that she had succeeded in traveling back. Regardless of the ridiculousness of her quest, she had more difficult boundaries to overcome. She felt a bit like Don Quixote, and wondered if his quests were as seemingly ridiculous as her own despite their best intentions complete with a full heart.

It was at that moment that she saw what until seconds before she could only imagine in her mind—the house on the lake. The house stood illuminated by candles and torches which even still could not shut out the blue glimmer cast upon it by the water. It seemed an enchanted castle filled with the unknown yet somehow desirable. She nearly slipped on the wet ground in her attempt to get closer until she really did fall, only in the blue moat around said castle.  
Although a strong swimmer she struggled to keep her head above water as her long gown pulled her down from the weight. Gulping and swallowing the foul tasting water she prayed Erik would not hear the noise and come out seeing her this way, a wet rat. Her prayers were answered for the time being as she finally found the shore and flopped herself out of the water, dress and all, like a fish. She inhaled slowly allowing her lungs to adjust before she attempted any quick movements.

Her hair now hung in tangled clumps, free from their pins. Sighing she gathered her wet skirts around her legs and using her arms lifted herself slowly off the ground. The corset around her made breathing very difficult and she found herself dizzy and slightly disoriented. She had always believed it ridiculous that a woman should faint from surprise in any scenario from the movies, but after this trial and the restraint of her corset, later she would not reprimand herself for fainting after standing up and finding herself face to face with the object of her quest staring at her with suspicion in his famously yellow eyes.

Warmth now filled Kitty's bones as she awoke from a rather cliché experience that she had only ever imagined in her mind. Despite remembering being soaking wet, she realized she was dry up suddenly. Her previous apparel had been removed and she sat now in her completely modest underclothes. Still, she felt very vulnerable.

Blinking in order to clear her vision, Kitty realized that she was in a very different variation of a room that had been a constant in her memory. She now found herself in what she believed to be the guest room in the Lake House. She had always imagined a more decadent setting but the walls were a simple dark stone. There was little light in the room except for several candelabras attached to the wall.

The bed in which she lay was made of a rich wood and the headboard contained beautiful carvings proper for the period of time. An armoire of similar age and beauty hid in a small corner and Kitty's dress hung over a small wooden chair with a velvet cushion—much less extravagant than she had imagined but still perfect.

Looking around for signs of her captor, Kitty slid her legs over the side of the bed and shivered at the feel of more stone, cold stone, on her feet. She tiptoed over to her dress and slipped into it as quickly as she could. Missing her cozy velour sweatpants and favorite Prima Donna t-shirt, she sighed as she fastened her dress up. Kitty remembered the reason of her sacrifices and knew she had come as close as she could ever come to her goal. 

She paced around the room, unsure of whether she should wait for her captor or seek him out. Pacing around she looked around a bit, not finding anything incredibly amazing but having to curb her temptation to swipe a small stupid souvenir. Kitty then realized her feet were freezing and that she had not put on her slippers. However, replacing them on her feet did not warm her toes up much.

Kitty felt like a discomforted child but she resigned to slip her dress off once more and huddled under the warm blankets that had been provided her. She still felt a bit feverish and a little panicked at the idea of becoming ill in such a dark aged world, or so she perceived.

It was not long until the comfort of the bed and warmth took over her senses and allowed her to drift off to sleep again. Kitty drifted in and out of sleep and felt shivers overcome her and sweat. She cursed herself many times for putting herself in this situation. She could not keep her eyes open for very long and when she did, she saw the world through fuzzy glasses.

At one point, she saw a dark shape enter the room and approach her bedside. She knew who it was and wanted to make contact but she could not speak. As she tried, a hand covered her mouth gently and eased her back down. She longed to hear a voice, that voice who no one she knew had ever heard and that no actor could ever imitate to perfection. However, her captor remained silent and simply put a cool cloth on her head which made her realize that she had a fever. He forced a warm herbal drink through her lips and then left.

Kitty tried to lift her head to catch another glimpse but she felt more tired than ever and soon rolled her eyes back and continued to dream dreams that were almost realities.

Her fever lasted a week and in that time, when she had conscious thoughts, Kitty felt certain she would die and her journey would end unfinished. In a moment of delirium, Kitty managed to make herself smile at the idea of becoming a real opera ghost and staying with Erik. Of course, these types of thoughts came in droves in response to her body fighting off an infection.

She barely remembered anything real from her time of serious impairment, but vague memories of someone replacing the cool cloth on her forehead several times and attempting to spoon feed her a herbal broth that tasted like cilantro. A forceful hand gently cared for her and allowed her to get well. Kitty never anticipated him doing this for anyone.

Eventually the fever broke and she awoke one day, cool and alert once more. She sat up as if from and dream and stretched like a cat hearing the contenting sound of her back crackle a bit. Looking around the room she started as she looked in the direction of the velvet chair in the corner. She audibly gasped.

There Erik sat, clad in his black dress suit and staring out at her through a white mask that covered his entire face. His hair color, a mystery among phans, appeared sleek and dark as in the stage show, but Kitty had reason to believe that it might be a wig. She clutched the blankets on the bed up over her chest and found herself in an eye lock with the object of her affections. She did not even know him and yet she found herself spellbound in fantasy.

There they sat for several moments in silent observation of each other, until Kitty got the courage to say the line she had been practicing over and over in her mind since her journey began. She exhaled slowly and began, "My name is Katherine Porter, and I must thank you for caring for me. Please forgive my intrusion on your privacy."

Erik did not react at all but stood up slowly and spoke, "Mademoiselle… je ne parle pas l'anglais mais…" he spoke much more in French and Kitty almost laughed at herself for being so ignorant. She held up her hand and continued to converse, this time in French.

"Forgive me, I am an American, but I speak French. My name is Katherine Porter and I wanted to thank your for your kindness and ask your forgiveness for my rudeness in invading your privacy."

"You are well-learned for a woman. I confess I never worked very hard to improve my English. That aside, I find myself confused. You do not look the least bit surprised or frightened for a woman who happened to get lost in the depths of the opera house. If you were indeed lost." Kitty had not anticipated his suspicion of her but tried to remain cool.

"Is it your insinuation that I desired to fall into your hands?" Immediately she knew this was the wrong approach. 

"You tell me, Mademoiselle."

"Perhaps you might allow me to freshen up a bit and then provide a more apt explanation."

If he had not been masked, Kitty felt he might have raised an eyebrow but he said nothing and left, silent. Kitty sat back hard in her bed and stared at the ceiling overwhelmed. She had just spoke with him, HIM. Life unraveled in a confusing manner and as she dressed she took great care to improve her appearance the best she could.

Her hair now looked more presentable and she jokingly pinched her cheeks to induce natural color into them. Giggling girlishly she twirled and, satisfied with her appearance, stepped out of the room. She bumped into something soft and looking up saw her captor staring down at her with penetrating eyes. Perhaps this was strike two.

"Follow me," he said with obvious distrust in his voice.

Kitty obediently followed him into a room where his beautiful organ sat and was surprised to find a small sitting area. The lair never looked like this on stage, this place was the correct darkness but it had a homey feel to it almost. Filled with stage sets and antique furniture, the lair looked much different than she could have imagined. Somehow she could only focus on the man himself. She watched him closely, taking in every movement, his walk, which defined grace as she had hoped.

His hands swayed with masculine strength and yet his steps seemed to float on air. Kitty followed him staying many small steps trying to keep up. At last he stopped and turned, making sure she was still with him, and then invited her to sit down. She complied and felt her hands shaking, she felt nauseous and nervous.

He mistook her symptoms saying gently but stiffly, "You need not be afraid of me. I am not going to hurt you."

Although she had not considered this possibility, she felt calmed a bit, "Thank you, Sir. I must confess I am not afraid of you. You cared for me when I was ill, thus, I cannot assume that you would have taken all that trouble if you were going to kill me. That would have been your ideal chance."

He did not respond but there was a touch of amusement in his voice, "You confuse me, Mademoiselle. I cannot help but feel you know something. I should be harsher with you for invading my privacy, which I cannot assume was not unintended, but my curiosity compels me to find out more."

"Crap, crap, crap, he's going to think I'm nuts, how can I explain anything without sounding like a psycho. How, how, how, this is nuts!" thought Kitty panicked. She attempted to regain some composure and smiled coyly, "I would tell you but I think you'll laugh or think me insane. Either one would not be very flattering to me."

She wished he would take that wretched mask off so she could detect any emotions from him. But for the moment he remained seemingly detached, "I think you'll discover that little in the world surprises me. I would be interested to hear."

Kitty breathed and stood up, she knew she might have to lie a bit now, but it was unavoidable, "Alright, I'll tell you. I had come here to the Opera House for a chance at training as a singer but they had no openings left. I heard a bunch of the ballet girls giggling and chattering as I was about to leave upon my rejection. They spoke of a man, dressed in black, with a mask, with a face of death, who had the voice of an angel. They spoke of him so… jokingly I assumed they were just gossiping. Then…I saw him… you…only for a second, just, hiding in the shadows watching. Although I saw you for just a second, there was something in your eyes that moved me, sadness, or jealousy, something so human and passionate I knew that you weren't a ghost. I admit my curiosity got the better of me, I wanted…" she stopped with the fiction and now spoke truly from her heart, "I felt compelled to meet you, to find out who you were, why you lived here, why you seemed so lost. I could identify with that and I guess… I guess I lost myself in that curiosity. I never expected to find you. And now… now I feel foolish." Kitty stood up and felt flustered, "Please forgive me for wasting your time, and disturbing you."

Erik stood up just as rapidly and approached her, "Mademoiselle, I must ask you to stop apologizing. If you were disturbing me, we would not be having this conversation." Kitty lowered her head and tried not to let him see her emotional reaction to standing so close to him. She could not stop shaking. 

She tried to control herself but her voice faltered a bit, "Monsieur, please, I… I don't know why I'm here. Honestly… I…"

He seemed uncomfortable by her reaction but she felt him grab her arms gently, "Mademoiselle, you are still weak from being ill. Perhaps, I should escort you back to sleep to get well."

This contact did not help her to stop shaking but she allowed him to lead her back to the guest chamber. With all the courage she could, without thinking, she asked him, "Monsieur, you… why will you not remove the mask in my presence? I cannot read your face for emotions… it is confusing."

He stiffened at this remark and increased the distance between their bodies, "If you have sought me out, you must know the reason for the mask and know never to ask me to remove it."

She moved closer, countering his previous move, "I have heard. Perhaps you underestimate my rigidity and take me for a fainting, foolish ballet girl?" 

"I will not be a means for you to test your ability to withstand horror, Mademoiselle, for your own curiosity."

She attempted to rephrase herself by moving even closer until they were a nose apart, "Monsieur, I only meant to gain your trust. If gaining your trust requires you to keep on your mask, then so be it; I want to earn your trust." 

"Mademoiselle, you will not have my trust until you are honest with me, mask aside. Your story has some holes and I feel as if you know more about me then you are revealing. Then way you look at me… it…" he paused as if trying to be delicate, "it is more familiar than someone who searched for a myth out of curiosity, is it not?

Kitty felt trapped again, she moved away from Erik slowly, backing up searching for a way out. The distance between them grew more and more until Erik started moving towards her. It amazed her how fast he moved without seeming to move at all. She started running and gasped for air, not used to exerting herself while constraint by a corset. He eventually caught up to her and grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to see his face which was still covered.

"Why have you come here?" he shook her and continued to raise his voice, frightening her, "What are you hiding?" She began to cry involuntarily and with that he stopped and looking at her, panting from irritation. He look at her unsure of how to react, did he look at her with anger or pity?

She swallowed hard, "I do know you—but not how you think I do. I know your name is Erik," upon uttering that name he drew away in surprise, "I knew you lived down here, and have for many years, using your skills in ventriloquism and gifted talents in illusion to masquerade as the an Ghost of the Paris Opera. I have an idea of what lies beneath the mask; I know you were humiliated and hurt as a circus freak because of something that was not your fault. I know your gifts of music are far superior to any musician out there but your talents have been squandered because of your face. I know you're alone and unhappy and desire love—but I only know this from spending time with you and from seeing how much care you gave me.

You have compassion within you, despite your remarkable ability to kill men at your hands. If I explained to you how I know what I know, you would not believe me, and it should not be important. What matters is that knowing what I know, and what I have learned, I just wanted to spend time with you, learn from you… that is all I could ever hope for… I feared you might think I was a spy or a silly school girl hoping for a glimpse of the opera monster…" She breathed and realized how much she had said, too much perhaps since she still received no response from him.

Then without warning, he removed his mask and she saw for the first time, a face that she had been preparing to accept for most of her life.

Kitty had seen this moment, like most of her moment spent with Erik, in her mind, but she knew before she set off to find her destiny that nothing could ever prepare her for the day when she would see his face. In truth she did not know what to expect and prayed every day that she could see beyond any discomfort she might feel and remain stone. She prayed her affections would do protect her from her own prejudice and ignorance.

In one moment she had been put to the test and had passed with flying colors. Although she felt weak with surprise, his face, was not that bad. Well… it was very disfigured, but in her heart she was glad for she could finally see the emotions within his soul. The nature of the disfigurement could not be described and quite frankly was not important, but she saw his eyes blinking fast as if waiting for her to shrink away in terror. His mouth did not move but his malformed lips remained pursed in firm resolve.

Tentatively, as if in a dream, she continued her sensory exploration of his face. Lifting on hand up slowly, waiting for him to stop her, up towards his face. He did not stop her and allowed her to gently place her hand on his cheek. He jumped as if by electric shock but still did not remove her hand. Exploring new territory with her fingers she felt the rough skin and bumpy surfaces that covered both cheeks and chin. Kitty dared to tentatively brush her hand over the crevice where his nose would have been. She was not repulsed, but it took all of her control not to let tears run down her face. He must not sense any pity in her. None. He closed his eyes relishing in the rare contact between himself and a woman, rather anyone.

Last, she moved her fingertips to his lips, feeling their soft texture despite their deformed appearance. How she longed to kiss him, to give him the love he deserved, would he think her a whore if she kissed him? Could she resist this situation? Their bodies were moving closer and closer together until she could not touch his face anymore without digging her elbows into his chest.

His arms moved up awkwardly and ended up on the few bits of bare skin on her back. He wore gloves but shed them earnestly and she felt goose-bumps on her arms at the shock of cold contact. He trembled as he moved along her skin, never having touched anything so smooth in his life. Eager fingers hesitantly found their way under the material of her dress, but only for a second making her crave more from him. More than she felt she deserved yet.

Quickly she pulled away, her hands flexed to her sides. He stared and her hungrily, knowing that she might give him more. It was too soon, she did not want to be his pity whore. "I cannot, it's too soon, I don't know you yet," she said answering his unspoken question. Realizing the irony of her statement she continued, "I want you to know me, to…" the way he looked at her made her body grow warm and she could feel her face flush. "I feel as though I am taking advantage of you."

He smiled, for certain this time, "Then we agree on one thing."

She blushed again, "This is crazy… I'm crazy…" he continued to smile at her, "why did you do it?"

He kept his smile, "Do what mademoiselle, many actions have transpired since you arrived here." Now he was playing with her.

"Remove your mask, Monsieur; I gave you no reason to trust me."

He sighed and lost his smile for a moment and looked around for the mask which he had dropped in low of previous situations, "You told the truth. For knowing me as you claim to, you underestimate my abilities to know when someone is lying and whether they have ill intentions. I admit I was suspicious at first and do not think I do not have more questions to which I expect answers but…" he picked up his mask and looked up at Kitty, "you did not turn from me when I took a chance. I do not know whether that entitles you to more of my trust or less. But at the moment my instincts tell me more trust. For now."

At this he put his mask back on and Kitty reacted, "Must you?"

Erik sighed under his mask, "There are other things to hide rather than the obvious."

"It must be easy to hide your true feelings," Kitty said trying to hide her own bitterness. She knew she was overreacting considered the length of time she knew this man but somehow she felt there was more to the story then Leroux could have ever imagined.

There was one question she had to know before they proceeded, "Erik—I must ask you something. Won't your spending time with me interfere with your time spent with other women?"

He tensed, "I do not appreciate your joking."

"No, I mean Christine," she blurted out before he could stop herself. 

He narrowed his eyes and then responded, "Who is Christine?"

Kitty closed her eyes in defeat and realized the magnitude of what she could have done. She never considered the possibility that her meeting Erik would alter the normal flow of events. This was a story that had never been written. Perhaps her invasion of Erik's lair had prevented him from hearing Christine and Meg joking around on the stage of the opera house so that Erik would never hear her and thus, not ruin his status quo. God—what if after this whole thing he did hear her and then become mesmerized and forget Kitty? Should she tell him the truth or did fate rule any hope for her?

Her internalization did not translate to Erik so he continued to stare at her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. She took a deep breath and tried to visualize what she might say to alleviate this situation. Could she take it back without encouraging him to ask more unnecessary questions?

"She's… no one… just, forget I mentioned it ok." She knew this tactic wouldn't work but she couldn't admit it. She couldn't lead him down this road and she prayed his curiosity would not take over.

"No one?" Erik was not buying it, "Again I feel that you are withholding something from me."

She shifted in uncomfortably, "Look, I'm sorry I mentioned it just…" suddenly she had an idea; she could make this work, "Ok, I'll tell you but you're going to think I'm silly. One of the ballet girls, her name is Christine, told this myth about an Angel of Music that her father used to tell her when she was young and she said one day that she thought that the Angel of Music was giving her voice lessons in her dressing room and…" she paused briefly to see if he reacted at all, "and, I suppose it sounded like something… you might…do." She smiled as coyly as she could. If he did not think was crazy yet, he sure would now.

He looked almost offended, "And why would you think I would do something like that?"

She almost laughed out loud but managed to control herself and tried to sound casual, "Oh I don't know, just, the way she described the beautiful voice and the way it seemed to come from no where…" she tried to put this carefully, "well after I met you, and heard you sing, the thought just crossed my mind that the voice might have been you."

To her surprise, he laughed, "You do have some strange notions, Katherine." She did not know whether what he just said sounded stranger than being called her formal name. The irony was so thick she almost felt the need to brush it away from her eyes to see clearly. She hoped this issue would never come up again, but he continued joking about it, "I hardly think I would waste my time teaching silly girls anything about music." She smiled, concealing her amusement and then playfully nudged him.

"Do you think _me_ one of those silly girls?"

He folded his arms across his chest, "You… surprise me. Few people in this world elude me and you are one of the few. I should be suspicious of that, but for now, my curiosity compels me to find out more."

Kitty laughed and hoped he could not hear the nervous edge to her laugh, what would he say if he should ever find out the whole truth? Would he even believe something like that? He continued, "For one, the fact that you are not the least bit disgusted with my face; that eludes me."

She put her hand on his shoulder, "Your face does not make you who you are," she put her hand on his chest, "This does. People are afraid of things that are different or that they don't understand. People have trouble seeing behind appearance. What you look like does not make you a monster. There are plenty of beautiful people in the world who are more monstrous than you." He walked away from her and spoke with his back to her,

"My actions do not make me any less of a monster, I have done many terrible things in my life, many of which, if I told you would shock you. You make me feel more honorable than I deserve."

"What you deserve is to live in the sunlight," she cried walking over to him, "How people treated you throughout your life has effected who you are today! If people had shown you more love, respect, and compassion I know you would not have done some of those things you regret."

"You cannot know what I have done," he whispered, "You must never know for if I told you… you would not wish my company any longer and I cannot…I do not want that from you."

"I'm not going anywhere; I came here to be with you," she paused, "I want to stay."

He turned to look at her as if waiting for a punch line, and when that did not come, she walked towards him and put her arms around his neck. His body felt warm against hers as she nuzzled her face into his shoulder. She felt his arms pressed against her back and hold her tightly. It was as if he had never hugged another human being in his life. As she hugged him, she prayed that nothing would change, that fate would not intervene and thrust her out of a world in which she did not belong.

Kitty found herself thrust into Erik's world headfirst. He seemed so eager to show her everything, his more treasured possessions found their way into her heart from his. As she had suspected there was so much more to his lair than her imagination. The amount of props and sets from shows that had been dumped into Erik's domain was enough to boggle the mind.

Erik seemed to take pleasure in showing her every little trinket they came across. Kitty delighted in his enthusiasm. She had not yet permitted him to call her "Kitty" so every time he called her Katherine she had to remind herself of her birth-name. The way "Katherine" rolled off his tongue was so lyrical and beautiful; his voice truly was angelic. She could not wait to hear him sing, but she refused to push him, he must come around in his own time.

When the tour concluded, Kitty felt overwhelmed. They stood at the bank of the lake and stared into the murky but bluish waters silently. The echoes of their steps flowed through the caverns and vast beyond. It was so hard to believe that they were miles underneath such a controlled and beautiful opera house. Yet somehow Erik managed to beautify his own world and make it just as elegant as the world above,

The best part of the tour had been seeing the organ. Kitty neared passed out from excitement and nearly overstepped her bounds by touching the keys. She remembered herself quickly and played the part of the gracious host. Erik almost had the intuition of her true feelings but yet did not offer her a seat at the infamous instrument. It was more real that way; they had to get to know each other before trust could be completely solidified.

She stood on the banks of the lake now, and Erik stood slightly behind her. So many questions poured through her brain as she stared off into space day dreaming. It was strange now that her most vivid day dream was a reality. Well, almost. The questions that bombarded her mind mainly concerned the fact that Erik had not met Christine Daae yet. Was that a fabrication of Leroux's? Did Leroux know for certain that there was a man down in the depths of the opera house or had he perhaps met him?

Erik had somehow shuffled his way right next to Kitty, and was gazing at her through the barrier of his mask. He spoke to her and started her a bit, "Where do you go when you do that? That's not the first time I've seen you look that way."

"What way?" Kitty hated that she couldn't seem to hide anything from him.

"You look far away, deep in thought. I suppose it would be hypocritical for me to pry but I can't help but wish to understand what goes on behind those eyes of yours when they look like that."

Kitty sighed louder than she meant to, "I want you to know everything that I'm thinking... but I can't tell you everything right away. Not yet. Just as I'm sure you don't want to tell me everything yet."

Erik shifted uncomfortably next to her, "I may not tell of you all of my secrets, Katherine, but I suppose it would be more fair of me to reciprocate honestly with you. If you tell me what you were just thinking at this moment." He was tricky and Kitty found herself smiling in response to his flirtations.

She turned facing him, staring into his eyes, "You want to know? I was wondering if you knew a man named Leroux."

"Is that his first or last name?"

"Last."

"Well, as social as it is down in here, I'm afraid I don't get out enough to meet that many new people."

Kitty murmured in agreement. "Do you know a man named Leroux?" he asked gently.

"Not personally, he's a writer. I believe he'd find all of this inspiring," she said carefully.

Over the next couples week Kitty and Erik had many conversations like this one. She'd look questioningly at something and Erik would get frustrated and demand more information. He never yelled at her but Kitty could tell that he was getting a bit annoyed with her lack of divultion. Not to say that he was any more forthcoming in his information but despite this small rues, they enjoyed each others' company immensely.

Erik would tell her stories as if she was a little kid again and half of the time she could not decide if these stories were true or not. Some of them were almost too fantastical to be real and yet, that though contradicted her current situation. She knew rumors of his alleged time in Persia but Erik confirmed them with his many tales of the Shah who he served under. He made no mention of the infamous character of "The Persian," a policeman whose life he supposedly saved in the book. Kitty supposed that to be a sore subject and thought it best for those subjects to be broached by him when he was ready.

The most difficult part was when he would inquire about her background. Almost everything she told him was a lie. Where she studied, her parents' occupations... it's not like she could tell him that her father was a computer engineer and her mother was a pediatrician. He'd stare blankly at her then laugh. She tried to brush off her childhood as an orphan in a girl's home, learning all she knew there, playing on the headmistresses' piano in secret, and running away and seeking work, never knowing her true family. That seemed to satisfy him, since he had not spoken of his childhood yet.

Weeks turned into a month, Kitty barely noticed the time. Erik seemed to have all that she needed to exist in his world and Kitty could barely contain herself when one day he revealed the purchases of truly authentic clothing from the era. He claimed that it would be more preferably than her costume-like gown and that these clothes were made better. She did not argue and was glad to finally get rid of the last material possession that continuously tied her to her old life.

Even the underclothes that Erik had purchased were infinitely more comfortable than the ones Kitty had bought from the vintage shop. (At no small price.) There were enough dresses to last for awhile and shoes that were more practical for exploring the cool depths. Every once in awhile Erik would surprise her with a little treat. One day a silver handled hand brush with smooth bristles, another day a bottle of floral scented eau de toilette for after her bathes, a pair of enameled combs with roses on them. He had amazing taste.

His taste translated over to food as well. At first Kitty had been tentative eating foods which were prepared so differently than what she was used to. The first week she had been ill almost every night from the food, not because it was poor quality or poorly prepared. Erik never knew since she was always in the privacy of her room, or at least if he did know, he said nothing about it. The one room in the house which Kitty had still not seen was Erik's bedchamber. She did not request to see it.

Once they had fulfilled a need to ask the essentials of each other's lives, Kitty felt a pressure had been lifted off her shoulders and could just be herself... almost. They spent time talking about things like music, art, food, and sometimes even philosophy. Kitty had to be careful when discussing some of these things to make sure she didn't express delight in a novel or piece of music that hadn't been written yet. Clearly the Leroux novel as well as its Broadway equivalent were out. She considered the absurdity of evening mentioning it.

Another month came and went and Kitty had used Erik's library to fill in the holes of her timeline. Initially he was surprised at her willingness to learn as a woman, but over time he grew used to it. She found it difficult at first to read in French, conversation was always her strongest suit. Kitty spent all of her energy perfecting her accent so as not to annoy anyone and enough vocabulary to get by. At this point she felt almost completely fluent, every once in awhile there was a word she wasn't familiar with but Erik would usually be able to provide her with it.

Once she requested to hear his English and he laughed at her, repeating that he was awful. She persisted and he finally complied. His vocabulary was limited but his accent was impeccable, although more British. She dared him to tackle her American accent. He did so jokingly emphasized the a's and e's to her delight. Erik was a quick learner and she had him speaking English in no time, his accent much more American after her tutelage.


End file.
